


Shut Up

by Woollycas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Related, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Overprotective Dean Winchester, Panicking Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-23
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-27 13:22:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15025505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woollycas/pseuds/Woollycas
Summary: Dean attempts to make amends.





	Shut Up

Dean tosses and turns, settling on his left side, staring into the darkness of his room. He can just make out the shadowed form of Cas clad in just his undershirt beside him, distant and obscured, and too far away for contact. In reality, he’s so close Dean can smell Cas’s unique presence --ozone and sunflowers-- and he need only reach out and easily wrap his arms around the angel if he felt inclined. He doesn’t. He doesn’t dare disturb the compromise of peace they settled into this evening. Cas is here, in his room, awake and laying quietly beside him. Dean is silently thankful that he’s not wandering the bunker or worse, wandering the world alone. 

Dean knows Cas is still mad --mad at him, or the hunt, or whatever. He can feel the anger radiate off him, permeating the thin layer of space between them. That space protects them from each other, impeding any progress of moving beyond the day’s events. The silent argument on the ride home did nothing to rectify the situation. Sam, injured and resting in the backseat of the Impala, hopefully missed the tense atmosphere in the front. Once at the bunker, the sharp words and deathly glares were harder to miss and Sam headed to his room leaving Dean and Cas to stew alone...together. 

Dean levels his breath, fully awake and frustrated, thinking about the day. The hunt, a rugaru outside Lincoln, was destined to go sideways from the get-go. Dean had never seen anything like it before. Bad intel led them into a rogue band of the monsters. And Cas’s impulsiveness-- God. _That just made things worse_ , Dean tells himself. The hunt was dark, confusing, and chaotic, but Dean feels a small bit of pride knowing they took out seven of the things. Dean smiles to himself thinking of Sam’s ingenious gasoline and butane fireline --but his thoughts quickly sour thinking of Cas rushing past it --through it-- to smite the monsters. 

Dean turns to lay on his back again. His eyes are now wide open, adjusting to the shadows, seeing the cracks of light seeping through the grate on his door, bouncing and reflecting off the various objects in his room .

Cas turns towards Dean then. Dean’s heart clenches, his stomach twists, his eyes squeeze shut. Dean doesn’t want to deal with this. He’s right. He’s right for worrying and yelling at Cas for being so stupid. He’s right for panicking as he watched him walk into a wall of fire. If Cas hadn’t been so impulsive maybe Dean wouldn’t have had to do what he did. In that moment, it was instinct for Dean to go after him reflective of his need to protect Cas from death. It wasn’t holy oil - it was gasoline. It can kill a pack of ravenous rugarus, but didn’t even singe Cas’s coat. He knew it deep inside, but in that moment, he would have done anything. The results of his impulsive move are that Sam is now sporting minor burns and Dean, wounded pride. 

Dean feels the mattress shift and the covers rustle. Cas’s bare leg slides next to Dean’s, a warm presence, not in comfort but acknowledgement. Dean knows he needs to speak first. Their evening argument just circled what they both needed to say. Dean takes a breath, his eyes still closed, and turns back on his side not yet ready to face Cas and what really demands to be said. 

“I panicked,” Dean blurts out, opening his eyes again. Cas stares at him with a solemn face, hands tucked under his pillow. He watches Cas compress his lips, a silent dismissal of Dean’s excuse. 

A flare of indignation rises in Dean. He knows Cas can take care of himself.

“I won’t apologize for worrying.”

“I’m not asking you to, Dean. I’m asking for you to trust me. The risks I take are mine to own.” 

Dean makes a dismissive note in his throat. “They’re ours. Yours, Sam’s, and mine. We’re a team.” 

“Then stop coddling me and let me be a part of the team. I’m an angel - and my skills are handy at times.”

Dean softens, hearing Cas even if he’s not quite ready to listen. He pushes his leg back against Cas, and Cas shifts, their lower legs entwining, a bridge of compromise. 

Dean’s senses that Cas is less upset and willing to listen now. It’s Dean’s chance to explain himself but he can’t make the imperfect thoughts of his mind form fully. Maybe next time he’ll take a breath before jumping headlong into saving Cas -- _especially if he’d doing something not too stupid_ , Dean thinks wryly. Maybe he’ll really hear Sam’s word of caution next time. Maybe. He’s feeling ridiculous about the day, about how his feelings for Cas manifest at the worst times - times of panic. 

In that moment, in the quiet of night and the liminal space of peace, Dean resolves to use words that so rarely surface in their world. He clenches his hand around the sheet, and then smoothes it down as he licks his lips and clears his throat. Cas means the world to him. He doesn’t know what he would do without him (he knows he’s a spiralling disaster without him ) and he never wants to feel that again. He owes it to Cas to tell him that every now and again. 

“I love you, you know.” His face flushes at the admittance, his eyes cast down. 

Dean feels Cas’s eyes on him, but only hears the soft whistle of breathing. This was supposed to be their moment to share. Two beats of silence is too much and he bursts out, “Are you going to say it back?”

Tension clearly gone from Cas, Dean hears a quiet, teasing, “Shut up.”

Dean sees the irony of the situation, and huffs a bit. The words are out there and he can’t --won’t-- take them back. Cas and him are good, and words are important but the language between them will always be silent more than not. And just as he resolves to stop worrying and fall back to sleep, Cas whispers, “I love you too, Dean.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks [Whichstiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel) for all your help :D


End file.
